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Thirteen/Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen: The Death of Me “Last time on Total Drama Island: For Your Entertainment, Rachel Claire thought the audience actually cared about her.” Chris sneered at the reporter’s name. He was sitting in a makeup chair in an unfamiliar backstage area. The room was dimly lit, and people were quietly milling around behind him. “The contestants had to deal with the aftermath of another elimination, in this case Ophelia’s crazy reaction to her boyfriend leaving. Risty was eventually able to talk some sense into the artist, but not before she completely ripped her only friend to shreds. Meanwhile, Avery revealed that she was targeting some teammates for elimination. She tried to keep her temporary alliance with Allison a secret, though Paul eventually caught on. “Speaking of Paul, this was just not his episode. Rachel Claire announced that the challenge was a RealityGossip press conference, and he revealed that he had a freakish fear of flashing lights. He had Irina supporting him on the red carpet, but when the questioning got too intense during the press conference he passed out. Oops. Right after that happened, the truth finally came out about Isaac and Avery’s secret game of tonsil hockey. Cara was devastated at first, though when Isaac lied- I mean, promised that he kept it from her ‘for her own good’ she forgave him and they kissed. Then, Monique complained about the PDA and ended up kissing Minerva.” The egomaniacal host laughed. “I have no idea how or why that happened, but it won them the challenge and boosted the ratings! That’s a win-win situation if you ask me. The Oscars were sent to elimination, and Cara was booted off. Isaac had no idea how that happened, but Avery revealed in the confessional that she and Allison voted her off to spite Isaac. Harsh, but entertaining. Will the challenge today kill the contestants, or will they be screaming in excitement? Find out now on Total… Drama… Island: For Your Entertainment!” “What’s in that envelope?” Avery pointed her comb at the large envelope in Allison’s hands. The Goth just gave her a sour smile as she pushed the door to their room open. “A copy of your information to give to that assassin I hired.” “Funny.” The drama queen rolled her eyes and shook out her wet hair. “Nice being enemies with you again.” Allison exited into the hallway, mentally questioning how the fans could ever like Avery. Maybe she could ask Chris for permission to move in with Paul for the rest of the competition. She began humming as she continued down the hall, though she quieted down when she passed Room 304. She didn’t want to take the chance that Angel would hear her passing by. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say to him when he eventually realized she had a role in Cara’s elimination, so avoidance was probably best for the moment. As Allison pushed open the door to the stairwell, the scent of smoke in the air made it clear that she wasn’t going to be able to evade her friend for much longer. She spotted the pyromaniac at the top of the second flight of stairs hunched over something, the telltale orange glow of a flame lighting up his face. She leaned against the railing, watching as Angel put out the first flame and picked something up from the pile beside him. The daredevil realized it was one of the dish towels from the kitchen as the pyromaniac held it out in front of him and set it ablaze with a flick of his lighter. He watched it burn in mesmerized silence, and she let out a quiet laugh when she saw the awestruck expression on his face. That sound caught his attention, though, and Angel’s eyes flicked up to where she was standing. “Allison!” He shook out the flame and shoved the singed rag into his pocket. He scrambled to sweep up the rest of the charred evidence surrounding him. “You don’t have to clean it up!” Allison slid down the railing to stop him. “You know I’m not going to tell.” “I know, but I shouldn’t be doing this anyway.” “How long have you been doing this?” “I don’t know. Since a little after midnight?” “Angel, it’s eight in the morning!” “I guess I got distracted.” As Angel tried to shrug, a blackened piece of cloth fell from his armful of fabric scraps. Allison caught it before it could hit the ground and examined it with an unsure curl of her lips. “A sock?” Angel gave her a sheepish half-smile and lifted the end of one of his pant legs, wiggling the toes of his bare feet. She put the sock on top of his pile with a laugh. “What happened to the Izzy clause in your contract?” “I couldn’t help it. Plus, I’ve never followed rules very well.” There was an awkward moment of silence as the pyromaniac opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Instead, he looked down at the envelope in his teammate’s hand. “What’s that?” “Rachel Claire elected me to be Paul’s messenger.” Allison explained, almost having forgotten about her job. “Oh, well, I won't keep you, then.” Angel started climbing the stairs, keeping his pile of burned fabric close to him. “I need to get rid of this stuff anyway.” Allison watched her teammate until he pushed the door at the top of the stairs open. Once Angel was gone, she continued on her way downstairs. When she reached The Lobby, she could already hear a familiar voice echoing from one of the hallways. “See, you just need to keep your hand steadier. It’s fun once you get the hang of it.” Allison peeked through the open doorway of the medical room. A card tower had been stacked in front of the flimsy hospital bed. Paul was kneeling on the mattress, his outstretched hand placing another pair of cards on the top of the tower. On the floor beside him, Chef Hatchet unsuccessfully attempted to balance two cards against each other. When the cards fluttered to the ground again, Chef stomped to his feet. “Forget this, I have better things to do.” He marched out the door, Paul staring after him with an expression of amusement. “For a guy who’s supposed to be recovering from an injury, you’re rather happy.” Allison remarked, dragging a chair until it was beside Paul’s bed. The Boy Scout leaned over to pick up the cards Chef had dropped, gently adding them to his tower. “Aren’t cards more Sebastian’s thing?” “Who do you think I borrowed the cards from?” Paul asked, not noticing when Allison quirked a brow at the statement. “I have a steady hand, so I figured why not entertain myself while I’m here?” “You get to get out of solitary confinement today, right?” “Chef said I could leave tonight. And it wasn’t solitary confinement, just mandatory rest to make sure I’m stable.” The brunet nodded his head at her envelope. “What’s in there?” “You’ve got mail.” She opened the envelope and poured its contents on the bed beside him. “Since you fainted before the fans could ask you questions, Rachel Claire told them they could write letters.” “That’s… surprisingly nice of her.” Paul unfolded one of the papers and began to read its message. “I think it was in her contract.” Allison took a brightly colored letter from the small stack and skimmed it. “Aw, they’re like valentines.” “Look at this one.” The do-gooder had moved onto another letter. “‘Dear Paul, I love that you’re a Boy Scout. There aren’t many guys who’ll admit to that as proudly as you do.’” He looked up at Allison. “I don’t see why not. Scouting’s taught me most of the things that make me the amazing person I am. Plus, it gave me the chance to be a hero for the first time.” “How’s about this one,” Allison snickered at the note in front of her. “‘Somehow you got Irina’s attention even though she’s really hot. Does being a Boy Scout help you with that?’” “Well, this one time…” Paul’s face turned a bit pink, and Allison smirked. “Continue, please.” “No, it’d probably be better not to.” “Oh, come on! You can’t just start a story and not finish it!” Allison playfully tossed one of the folded letters at him. “I want to know!” The smile Paul gave her was rather forced. “You’ll probably hear about it eventually. I’m not going to be going home any time soon.” Confession Cam Paul: “I’m really embarrassed about what happened at the press conference. That was just pathetic, which is so unlike me.” The Boy Scout smiled. “And to the fan who asked about scouting and the ladies, sometimes it all works out. Girls like a nice guy. Sometimes, though, you can’t let a relationship hold you back.” As the day went on, it was clear that Paul’s sunny disposition couldn’t change the weather. Even as he rejoined his team at dinner with a smile on his face, thunder boomed outside. A sudden chill had run through the air, and many changed into their longer sleeved clothing. “I hate the weather. Hate it, hate it, hate it.” Avery sat down at her team’s table with her hands fiddling with her hair. “As if it wasn’t bad enough that I didn’t bring any warm clothes, my hair’s getting frizzy again!” “Aw, poor you.” Isaac scowled at her. “Oh, shut up, for once I’m not complaining about you.” Avery sneered. “I can’t believe the weather turned terrible all of a sudden!” “You know what it is, don’t you?” Ophelia asked as she passed by with a plate of food. Avery narrowed her eyes at the artist. “Let me guess: because Victor’s gone?” “No, worse!” Ophelia put her plate down at the end of The Oscars’ table with a slam, drawing the entire cafeteria’s attention. “It’s Friday the thirteenth!” “Oh yeah, it is.” Monique commented. The artist shook her head. “Don’t you understand what this means?!” “It means my birthday’s coming up soon.” Paul stated. Ophelia just sighed. “Bad things are going to happen! They always do! The evil spirits can take over!” “Ophelia, why don’t you sit down?” Wes slid over a seat, leaving the chair between him and Donna open for the artist. Ophelia grabbed her lunch from The Oscars’ table and took the seat in a huff. “I don’t understand why they don’t believe me!” “Oh, because there’s nothing off about you…” Sebastian mocked from across the table. Risty elbowed him in the side at the comment, and Ophelia’s eyes went wide. “Make fun of somebody else, would you?” Wes demanded. “Victor not being here doesn’t give you the right to pick on her.” “I’m not making fun of her. I’m just stating the truth.” The gambler insisted. “Recent events have shown that there is, in fact, something off about Ophelia.” As he took a bite into his sandwich, a slice of tomato tossed from Donna’s direction hit him in the cheek. “Oh, haha.” A piece of cheese hit his face from Wes’s side. “What are you, five?” “It’s fine, you guys. He’s right.” Ophelia put a hand out to either side of her, blocking a deli meat barrage. “Something was off, but it’s gone now. That reminds me. I really owe you, Risty.” The athlete smiled at the artist from her seat beside Sebastian. “It’s no problem. I’m glad I could help you.” “No, you don’t understand. Thank you so much. I know I was a hassle, but I will make it up to you if there’s any way I can.” “Just don’t fall apart again. That’s the best thing you could give me in return.” Risty claimed. “That’s a cheesy answer.” Sebastian muttered under his breath. “She doesn’t seem to care.” Risty whispered back, hiding her mouth behind her sandwich. They watched as Ophelia, seemingly satisfied with that answer, began to converse with Wes. “It’s like she’s a completely different person from the other day.” “But she’s not. She can’t just pretend that nothing happened.” Risty scrunched her nose at him. “I don’t see why not.” “If you pay better attention, it’s obvious her actions have consequences.” Risty waited for Sebastian to explain, but he just returned to eating his lunch. The athlete just shook her head at him and did the same. Confession Cam Risty: “Sebastian, you’re my friend and all, but why must you be so suspicious? The hawk eye on your teammates is majorly creepy, man. Not to mention ripping on Ophelia and oh-so-casually announcing that your alliance was broken behind Monique’s back.” The athlete scoffed. “The shade of it all!” “Crap.” Click. “Crap.” Click. “More crap.” Click. “Maybe the shows would be better if you were sitting right side up.” Isaac snorted at Irina. “Nah. They’d still be terrible.” Dinner had ended, and still there was no sign of a challenge. Isaac had draped himself upside down on the couch in The Oscars’ lounge and was rapidly flipping the channels on the television. Irina and Angel sat on either side of him, suddenly regretting giving him control of the remote. “I think this thing is rigged to only show reruns.” Isaac commented, flipping the channels once again. “They probably couldn’t buy the rights to anything else.” Angel suggested. “We’re still being filmed, you know.” “Chris should’ve used some of Rachel Claire’s paycheck to buy better entertainment.” “She did pretty much take over last challenge.” Irina pitched in. “It was just a big RealityGossip ad.” “Not to mention an opportunity to insult us all for no reason.” Angel agreed. “The fans’ opinions? More like hers. And what she did to Paul was not cool.” “Speaking of the last challenge…” Isaac clumsily flipped himself so that he was right side up, almost kicking Irina in the face in the process. “Do you guys have any idea why I wasn’t eliminated?” Irina shrugged. “I assumed the fans voted Cara off.” "I don’t think so.” Isaac crossed his arms. “Why would Chris have bothered to mention that the team had an impact at the elimination? He’s lazy. If he didn’t see a reason to say that, he wouldn’t have.” “I think you’re just being paranoid.” The model claimed. “Oh yeah. Then who’d you vote for?” Irina bit her lip in embarrassment. “…Cara.” “Why?! You like her!” “She did the worst in the challenge. I vote for who I think did the worst!” Isaac glared. “You’re sure nobody pushed you to vote for her? Your overly dramatic friend, maybe?” The beautiful blonde looked away from the slacker. “I wouldn’t say Avery pushed me to vote for her. She did agree with me, though.” “A ha!” Isaac pointed at her. “Told you so! I think Avery’s been up to something. Right, Angel?” When his friend didn’t answer, the troublemaker slowly turned around to look at him. “Angel…?” Angel eyebrows were furrowed. “I voted for Cara too.” “Angel!” “Sorry, sorry! Allison told me it was a safe vote!” “Allison…?” Isaac pursed his lips. “Why would Allison have tried to convince you to vote with Avery?” “I don’t know. She was with me for half the challenge, so I don’t even know if they’d talked-” “Guys, look!” Irina pointed at the television. Her teammates looked at the program only to be shocked by the faces on the screen. Robert and Josh were standing in formal attire, a microphone held out in front of them. “Turn up the volume!” Isaac continued pressing the button on the remote until Robert’s voice was audible. “…And I’ve been having a lot of fun with the other eliminated contestants. It’s a big surprise when somebody unexpected shows up, but I think most of us get along pretty well. Even Josh has fun when the cameras aren’t in his face. I think he’s getting used to them.” Beside him, Josh was staring at the camera with wide eyes. The farmer shook his head back in forth in denial, and Robert laughed. “He’s working on it!” “Thanks guys,” The camera panned to show an unfamiliar reporter standing in the middle of the red carpet. “You’re watching the Total Drama Island: For Your Entertainment Losers’ Press Conference. We’ll be here filming live interviews with the eliminated contestants as a follow up to Wednesday’s highly publicized event with the remaining competitors. After the commercial break, you will be able to watch an interview with this lovely lady, who got stuck going to two of these!” The camera zoomed out to show Cara standing near the reporter. She gave the camera a friendly wave as the show cut to commercial. “Chris never mentioned a losers’ press conference.” Angel said. “Maybe it was a secret? Are we supposed to know about it?” Irina glanced over to Isaac. His eyes were still locked on the television, his grip tight on the remote control. “I guess we’ll be watching it, then.” “Ristyyy! Risty!” Minerva whistled a few times. “Ristyyy, where are you?” “She’s not a dog, Minerva.” Monique rolled her eyes as they walked downstairs. “We’ll find her eventually.” “I don’t know where she could’ve gone between dinner and now. She said she’d meet us upstairs after she did the dishes.” “Maybe she’s busy.” When they opened the door to The Lobby, strange sounds could be heard. Monique rolled her eyes again. “Do I even want to know?” The two girls headed in the direction of the cafeteria. The double doors were open, and the sound of slapping drifted through the first floor. A few more hits later and a laugh was heard, followed by somebody saying, “Okay, you’re definitely cheating!” “Risty!” Minerva rushed ahead of Monique. She entered the cafeteria to find Risty sitting at a table with her arms crossed, a stack of cards in front of her. Sebastian was sitting across from her and putting a few dollars in his pocket, a much larger stack of cards in front of him. The loudmouth kept a wide berth between her and the gambler as she walked to Risty. “What are you doing?” “Losing at cards.” The athlete said with a pout. “It’s only because he’s cheating.” “I wasn’t cheating.” Sebastian smirked. “I just don’t lose.” “Sorry I didn’t meet you upstairs.” Risty continued to talk to Minerva. “It took forever to find a towel to dry the dishes with, and then I was distracted by this-" “SEBASTIAN!” The three Emmys looked over at Monique, who had just entered the room. She stomped her way over to the gambler, a finger pointed at him. “I have a bone to pick with you!” “Oh, I’m sure you do.” Sebastian collected his cards and began shuffling them. Risty got to her feet as Monique neared. “Come on, Minerva, let’s wait for her outside.” The curly-haired girl grabbed the chatterbox by the arm, towing her out of the cafeteria. “I can’t believe you!” Monique stood in front of Sebastian, her fists balled at her sides. “You didn’t tell me anything about our alliance breaking up!” Despite the furious fashion designer in front of him, the gambler appeared to be the definition of calm. “I thought it was implied when we voted Victor off.” “Well, I never got the message!” “I figured it was clear that you weren’t useful anymore.” “Why not?!” “Figure it out.” Monique leaned across the table, jabbing a finger at her teammate’s chest. “You do not want an angry Monique Darling after you. I might be little, but that means nothing when it comes to my attitude. I am from New York!” “Yeah, and I’m from Reno.” Sebastian shrugged slightly. “Now that we’ve shared our hometowns, would you mind getting out of my personal space?” “No! I will not get out of your space!” Monique snarled. “I was depending on our alliance to carry me through the next few challenges! Without it I’d have to depend on reputation to make up for the fact that I suck at physical challenges. Of course, now I found out I’ve had no screen time, so I can’t even rely on fans’ reactions!” “Well, that’s your problem. When you and Victor agreed to the alliance, it was always meant to be temporary.” The card player glared. “You should just be glad I decided to turn on Victor before you. Neither of you was my first choice for an alliance, so you were expendable.” “Why, because I’m not Donna?!” Monique was close to his face as she breathed heavily in anger, her glare locked on Sebastian’s composed gaze. He waited a beat before retaliating. “Don’t you have to meet your girlfriend outside? You don’t want Risty stealing her away from you.” This was the perfect response. Instantly, Monique marched out of the cafeteria, making irritated noises under her breath. She was done speaking to him, apparently, as she slammed the doors behind her. Several plates in the kitchen rattled, but Sebastian barely flinched, just resumed picking up his cards. “I’m not going to say I like eliminations, but it’s actually kind of nice with less people around. No Gabe whining, no Elena screaming…” “You don’t have to explain. I’m not a people person, so I get it.” Wes glanced over at Donna, but she stared straight ahead, her jaw tense. They were sitting in the second floor hallway, observing the sets from the wall of windows. The rain dripped down the glass in front of them, though there was a full moon shining through the water and clouds. He watched her in silence, not looking away until her eyes darted to look at him. “What’s wrong?” The musician asked when she continued to watch him. Donna tucked her legs to her chest. “Do you think I’m cold?” Wes frowned. “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean. Distant… emotionless… an ice queen?” “No. Not really.” He admitted. “You’re just kind of shy. You don’t open up unless you want to.” Donna looked back out the window, her face still serious. “I think I’ll have to open up if I’m going to stay around much longer.” “Why are you even worried about this?” “Something Ophelia said.” She sighed, her entire body lurching with the motion, and Wes started to think. “If you want to open up, tell me something about you. Something you normally wouldn’t tell anybody.” Donna looked over at him with a confused expression. “Okay, I’ll start. My guitar’s name is Melody.” “Is that a music pun?” “Nope, that’s just the way it turned out.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Your turn.” Donna was quiet for a minute, debating on if she should play the game. Just when Wes thought she wasn’t going to say anything, she practically whispered, “I like to take photos.” “I’ve never seen you with a camera or anything, but that’s pretty cool.” “I haven’t really had the time to find something nice to look at.” Donna explained. “It’s your turn again.” “Oh, um…” Wes paused. “I can’t swim very well.” The smart aleck smiled. “I noticed that during the obstacle course. Whenever you hit the water, you’d come up flailing around like you were drowning.” “Oh god, really?” Wes laughed. “I had no idea.” “Well, I think all of America noticed. And I sang in a band once.” “Okay, now you’re lying.” “Nope. I owed my friend, so I did a talent show with his band when their singer quit on them. We were absolutely terrible.” “I’m sure you weren’t.” When the brunette watched him expectantly, Wes bit his lip in thought. “Um… I used to have an obsession with Bailey Shift.” “The country singer?” “Yup. I had all her CDs and a poster on my wall and everything.” Donna let out a short giggle, and Wes put up his hands in innocence. “Hey, she’s good looking!” “I just thought all of her fans were preteen girls.” “Yeah. Preteen girls and me.” Wes laughed at his old obsession. “Your turn.” “Sebastian kissed me during the vampire challenge. It was only the second time I've been kissed.” His grin faded at the sudden change in mood. “Oh…” “It’s not that big of a deal. It just… ticked me off, that’s all.” “Well, you definitely had the right to be. And while we’re sticking with serious topics, my brother’s in jail.” Donna grimaced. “I’m sorry.” “It’s fine. He did something stupid, so as terrible as it is, it’s probably for the best.” There was an awkwardly long pause before Donna could think of something else she was willing to reveal. “I’ve never been in love.” Wes gave her what could barely be called a smile. “I have.” She tilted her head at his strange expression. “I take it that didn’t work out?” “Not really.” “…Imaginary relationships with cardboard cutouts of Bailey Shift never do.” Wes gaped at her comment, and Donna realized just how rudely he could have taken it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” She was interrupted by Wes bursting into laughter. As he cackled at her joke, she couldn’t help but join in. Their laughter was cut short, however, by an ear-splitting boom. They yelped as the glass in front of them rattled with the volume of the sound, Donna clamping her hands over her ears. When the vibrations stopped, she removed her hands. “Look!” Wes stood up to look out the window. Donna joined him, gasping when she discovered what he had seen. Through the thin layer of rain, a large smoke cloud could be seen rising out of the center of Major City. “What is that?” She questioned. “I have no idea…” “Guys!” The pair of Emmys jumped when the voice echoed through the hallway. Irina had burst through the door to the stairwell, looking wide-eyed and panting heavily. “You’re going to want to see this…” The remaining thirteen contestants had gathered in The Oscars’ lounge room, all staring at the television in disbelief. On the screen, the scene was horrific. Sirens boomed as a news reporter stood in front of a scene of smoke and rubble. “-Nobody is quite sure why it happened, but somehow the RealityGossip Press Conference building has blown up from the inside. Some believe that it was an explosive set by jewel thief Veronique Chevalier, others think a bizarre malfunctioning of the ventilation system.” Behind the reporter, firefighters rushed towards the rubble. “There was a conference in progress when the explosion happened. The building contained hundreds of fans, dozens of cameramen, host Chris McLean, and the eight eliminated contestants. There have not been any bodies found yet, though we will be keeping you updated if we find out more information. This is truly a tragedy, and hopefully survivors will be found.” The screen went fuzzy for a minute before the news report began from the beginning. Most of the contestants remained silent as the report played again, unwilling to believe what they were seeing. “This has to be a challenge!” Irina cried. “A joke! There’s no way they could actually be…” “I tried to warn you guys.” Ophelia buried her face in her hands. “It’s Friday the thirteenth.” As if they were triggered by her words, the lights began to flicker. Then, the television shut off, and slowly each light went out. Minerva screamed when they were left in the dark, and Risty put a hand on her arm. “Chill. The power just went out from the rain.” Thunder crackled overhead as though it were proving her point. “There’s a fireplace in The Lobby.” Sebastian announced. “That’ll give us some light until the power comes back.” “Oh no, I am not walking down all of these stairs in the dark!” Avery shouted. “I’ll break an ankle or get kidnapped by a cameraman!” “I’ve got you covered.” With a small clicking sound, a flame lit up towards the center of the room. Angel held his lighter out in front of him as he got up to rummage through the kitchenette. He rolled a paper plate into a cone and then lit the top of it. “Let’s get downstairs before this torch burns out.” The pyromaniac led the way as the thirteen competitors migrated to The Lobby. When they arrived, he threw the burning plate into the fireplace, lighting the log inside. The contestants pushed the chairs in the room into a ring around the fire, gathering close to the heat source. “I don’t believe this is real.” Sebastian said, his voice confident. “Camille’s in jail, and there’s no way Chris would even step foot into a building if it wasn’t inspected first.” “Yeah, but he wouldn’t care what happened to his contestants.” Wes pointed out. “If he had a way out, he’d see the explosion as a media event.” “You heard what the reporter said.” Minerva’s voice was shaking. “‘No bodies have been found’.” “Chris is a jerk, but I don’t think he’d ever do something like this.” Paul claimed. “This is just too much, even for him.” “I’m actually with Sebastian.” Allison spoke up. “There’s no way they’re actually dead.” “You’re just saying that because there was nobody you care about in that building!” Isaac snapped. “What?! You think I don’t care about any of our teammates?!” Allison snarled. “I have a heart, you know!” “Really, then why would you-” THUMP THUMP. Isaac swallowed his words, his eyes going wide. His voice came out as nearly a squeak when he asked, “What is that?” THUMP THUMP THUMP. Thirteen heads turned to look when the handles on the front doors started rattling. “It’s just somebody knocking on the door.” Sebastian stated. “I’ll get it!” Always eager to be polite, Ophelia rushed to get the door. “I can’t believe you don’t think this is real.” Angel said to Allison when the artist left. “I’m just unsure.” Allison explained. “For all we know, that’s Chris at the door saying it’s a challenge.” “Yeah, but maybe the explosion did happen and you’re completely wrong.” “Maybe. Maybe not.” “Guys, it’s okay! It’s just a cameraman!” Ophelia called to the group. She began to walk over to them, her light footsteps joined by a much heavier pair. “He doesn’t look so good, though. I think he might be sick.” The other twelve contestants looked up in horror at the man beside Ophelia. They recognized him as a crew member, though he looked nothing like when they last saw him. His t-shirt and jeans were soaked in mud and something deep crimson, and his skin seemed a bit gray. His shoulders sat askew, an arm with a large gash in it dangling lifelessly at his side. His head was tilted at an odd angle and looking down towards the ground. “Ophelia… I don’t think he’s okay.” Monique’s voice quivered as she stared wide-eyed at the cameraman. “Oh, I’m sure he’s fine. A little bit of cold medicine and hot cocoa and he’ll be good as new.” Ophelia looked over at the cameraman, getting close to his face. “You’re just sick, right mister?” The cameraman’s head suddenly shot up to look at the group in front of him, and several contestants jumped back or screeched. His eyes were completely white, with no sign of a pupil in sight. The man groaned and started to walk towards them, his head leaning limply to his right side. He approached the couch that Wes was sitting on the end of and reached out to touch him with a dirty hand. The musician yelped and pulled away, his arm instinctively swinging out to defend himself. His fist made contact with the man’s face, and his neck twisted back at an unnatural angle. With a sickening snap, the thirteen contestants watched wide-eyed and slack-jawed as his head rolled across the tiled floor. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to, did I just kill him?!” Wes leapt off the couch, joining the other contestants in scrambling to get away from the now headless man. The thirteen contestants cowered in a group beside the fire, watching the still-standing body. Slowly the headless cameraman began to walk towards them, his arms reaching around for something to grab onto. “I don’t think he’s sick…” Ophelia whimpered, wrapping her arms around Donna. The body turned towards the sound of her voice and began to rush at the group. They all ran towards the front door, though they stopped in their tracks when they heard something pounding against it. Paul opened the door, hoping that he was just imagining the sound. The Boy Scout screamed at the sight on the other side. Dozens of people in just as bad of shape as the crew member were limping towards the door. Many were covered in blood or had large scrapes on them, and some were even missing limbs. “Come on! We can get out this way!” Sebastian led the group to the cafeteria as the figures reached the door, fully aware of the one headless cameraman still following them. When they reached the cafeteria, he pushed open one of the large windows at the back of the room and dived through it. The other twelve contestants climbed out after him, though there were white-eyed beings stumbling towards them on this side of the building as well. “Where do we go?!” Avery shouted. “The news report didn’t mention if Chef was at the conference,” Isaac replied. “Maybe he’s still here somewhere?” “Where could he be, though?” Irina asked. “He wasn’t upstairs!” “The First Aid Trailer!” Wes exclaimed, remembering his visit there after the musical challenge. The rain beat down on the group as they sprinted in the direction of the trailer, making sure that nobody got left behind. As they moved deeper into the film set, more and more people began to surround them, all with white eyes. Some of the figures were groaning and grunting, and all were reaching out to try and get their hands on the cast. When they reached the trailer, they began to bang on the door. “CHEF! CHEF!” “CHEF, PLEASE LET US IN!” “CHEF HATCHET!” The door swung open and without a second glance the thirteen competitors piled into the trailer. Chef, dressed in only a pair of heart-printed boxers and bunny slippers, groaned at the sight of them. “Why are you all awake?!” He shouted. “This is exactly why I don’t sleep in The Hotel anymore!” “Chef,” Angel panted, “There’s… they’re all…” “They have white eyes, and they’re groaning and drooling!” Ophelia added. “And they’re bleeding and reaching out for us!” Minerva contributed. Chef stared at the babbling contestants with a sneer. “What are you talking about?” With several crashes, blood- and mud-covered hands started bursting through the small windows of the trailer. As banging began on the outside of the trailer, the contestants backed away from the windows and shouted, “That’s what we’re talking about!” “That idiot!” Chef rushed over to the phone with a horrified look on his face, frantically dialing a number. “I told him this would happen, but, no, he needed publicity!” He put the phone up to his ear and then swore, throwing it at the wall. “The line’s dead!” “Do you know what’s going on?!” Donna asked as one of the hands tried to grab at her. “Maybe.” Chef shook his head in disappointment and began to dig through a cabinet on the wall. “Your next challenge is supposed to be adventure themed, so Chris bought an old voodoo relic at some auction to use as a prop. The creepy woman he bought it from warned him that it was cursed, but the idiot was just glad it was cheap!” “What are those things?!” Risty questioned as the pounding got louder. “The undead, of course!” Chef pointed at the old television in the corner of the room. “Didn’t you see the news special before the power went out? Your friends and fans are back from the dead for revenge!” “…You’re joking, right?” Avery sneered. “Nope. We’re gettin’ attacked by zombies!” “So what do we do?!” Allison shrieked. “The woman said the curse’d stop being effective if the relic’s submerged in water. Chris was stupid and didn’t listen and put it out in swamp area of the woods.” Chef moved towards the back of the trailer, putting his hands in the couch cushions. “So we’re going to have to go after it once I get a weapon. I know I have a gun hidden in here somewhere…” Suddenly, the screen door leading to Chef’s garden was broken down. Several zombies leaned in and started to reach for him. He turned around and started to fight them off, though one particularly large creature grabbed him around the ankles. Paul and Isaac rushed over to help him, though they were no match for this large zombie. Chef clawed at the floor as he was dragged out the door. “You have to get the relic!” He shouted, trying to grab onto the doorframe. “It’s your only chance to get rid of them!” The zombies yanked him to the ground, gathering around him until Chef couldn’t be seen anymore. As his screams echoed through the air, Paul’s face went pale. “Did you see who that big zombie was?” The Boy Scout asked weakly. Isaac looked out at the group of zombies. As soon as he did, the largest one glared up at him. Though he had a large gash in his neck and was covered in mud, he was still easily recognizable. “It’s Robert!” The troublemaker howled. “That’s why they all look so familiar! They’re zombies from the press conference!” As the other contestants reacted, Robert began to charge the trailer, his pure white eyes full of rage. Even with a limp in his step, the footballer was still a juggernaut. The contestants started to rush for the front door. “Go, go, go!” They broke through the door and pushed through the few zombies blocking their way just as Robert hit the trailer. There were double the amount of zombies in the area than before, and Minerva and Irina stopped to scream. “We have to get to the woods!” Sebastian shouted, running in that direction. “Come on, we have to go!” Risty grabbed Minerva by the arm, dragging her to follow their teammate. Though their group was not as close together as before, all thirteen contestants ended up making it into the forest. The full moon lit the way through the canopy of trees overhead, though the ground was thick with mud because of the rain. Some of the contestants stumbled as the mud got deeper, though they continued moving out of fear. Nobody dared to stop until Minerva screamed. “HELP ME!” Risty, Wes, and Monique turned around to see that a zombie had burst from the ground beneath the mud and grabbed the loudmouth around the legs. “Please, she’s not letting go!” The zombie growled and began to pull her into the mud. As her teammates grabbed onto the chatterbox’s arms, they realized that the furious zombie was Elena, though half of her face was missing. Several other undead hands reached from the mud and grabbed onto Minerva’s legs, and it was obvious that the three Emmys were no match for however many zombies were lurking under the ground. “Please, don’t let go!” Minerva cried, tears running down her face as she was pulled waist deep into the soft earth. “PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” “We’re not!” Wes shouted as he, Monique, and Risty pulled harder on their teammate. Minerva screamed as Elena clawed her way up her body, grabbing her around the neck and pulling her down. The zombies were stronger than the three Emmys, and their grips broke. Minerva’s wail was deafening as the hands scraped along her face, pulling her entire body under the muddy ground. “MINERVA!” Monique screeched, kneeling down in the mud that her friend had disappeared into. After a few seconds, the zombies that had pulled the loudmouth under began to reemerge from the mud, and Risty pulled Monique to her feet. “Come on, it’s too late for her!” The athlete dragged the trendsetter behind her as she ran. “We need to catch up!” “Wait!” Wes stopped abruptly and pointed at the group ahead. A horde of zombies had burst from the ground in the middle of the nine contestants. The contestants had split in all directions to escape them, most dashing deeper into the woods. “Where do we go?!” “I don’t even know, we just have to keep moving!” Risty exclaimed as the zombies began to approach them, continuing to pull Monique with her when they resumed sprinting. “Could you let go of me?!” The trendsetter demanded. “You’re dragging my tights in the mud!” “You’re not as fast as us, so it’s better this way!” The athlete insisted, using all of her energy to both drag Monique and keep up with Wes. A zombie got a hold of Monique’s leg, scratching a hole in her tights. The fashionista screamed and kicked him away, wrapping her other arm around Risty’s. “Okay, you’re right, just keep going!” After a few minutes of running, they got to an area where the mud was shallower, but the trees hung lower. It was easier to lift their feet, though they were still slowed down because they had to duck under the branches. The zombies on their tail were much farther behind now, so Wes, Risty, and Monique stopped to breathe. “What are we going to do running into the woods?” Wes panted, pushing back his wet bangs. “We should be running towards Major City!” “Chef said to get that thing, so we should at least try and stop them.” Risty wiped the mud from her face. “For all we know there are zombies all over the city too!” “What do you think happened to Minerva?” Monique asked. Wes and Risty didn’t answer, and she shook her head. “She’ll find a way out. She usually does-” “MONIQUE!” Wes reached for the trendsetter, but a pair of arms dangling down from the tree above her had already wrapped around her neck. More arms stretched down and pulled her up into the tree. Wes grabbed onto her feet, but lost his grip when her shoes slipped off. Monique wailed as she was pulled into the branches. Risty and Wes stood beneath her, trying to reach her location in the tree. Risty stopped struggling, though, when she saw that Zack was one of the zombies with his hands on the trendsetter. The technophile leaned down and bit Monique on the neck. The designer screeched as Zack’s teeth sank into her skin, and Risty turned away. “We need to keep going.” She said to Wes. The guitarist narrowed his eyes. “But-” “We need to keep going!” The athlete repeated with more force. When the sound of grunting increased behind them, Wes nodded. They darted off into the forest, unsure of how long they would have to run. They knew they had just left two of their teammates for dead, but it was the only way to assure that the same thing wouldn’t happen to them. As they sprinted deeper into the woods, it started to seem like no matter how far they ran there would be no escaping the monsters behind them. <<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>>